Sunshine
by Goonlalagoon
Summary: BoO spoilers involved - so no details on content. A collection of unrelated one-shots with a running theme of the sun (initially only had the first story up). Some romance, some friendly, some whichever you choose to read it as. Not all involved characters listed due to limit of four. All post Blood of Olympus.
1. Sunshine

**Read Blood of Olympus yesterday, and decided I had to have a stab at writing something in semi-Calypso focus at the end.**

**I am obviously not Rick Riordan; as you will be aware, characters etc. all his (or part of Ancient Greek mythology)**

* * *

When Calypso hears the unmistakeable shout echo across the sky, she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she does both, sinking to the ground on suddenly weak knees. She pulls herself together almost instantly, brushing tears away hastily. Last time he arrived, he destroyed her picnic table in an explosion. He will be arriving in some equally dramatic and undignified fashion this time – he is, after all, Leo Valdez. She strides out of the garden towards the beach, eyes scanning the sky, heart pounding out a frantic rhythm.

_He's back, he's back, he's back._

She tried not to hope, in the seemingly endless days since the raft bore him away from Ogygia, but Elpis was never one to allow mere intent to suppress her, so she had hoped. But she had never believed, not really. Yet there he was, streaking through the sky on a metal _dragon_. Festus. She remembers Leo talking about the creature fondly, but also sadly, guilty over its destruction.

_He's back, he's back, he's back_.

The dragon lands, stumbling on a clearly damaged leg. Some corner of her mind wonders what on earth _happened_ – the creature is covered with soot, scrapes, dents and even melted patches. But most of her attention is taken by the scrawny figure being flung from the beast's back, ploughing into the sand at her feet. He pushes himself up, spitting seaweed out of his mouth. Yes, it's _her_ hero alright. He looks up, and her heart feels like it's a thousand times too big for her chest.

_He's back, he's back, he's back_.

"You're late." It isn't what she'd expected to say, or what she'd dreamt she'd say, or even what she _meant_ to say, but those were the words that came out of her mouth. And somehow, they felt a hundred times more valid than the most romantic reunion comment she could have chosen. He grins up at her.

"Sorry, Sunshine, traffic was murder." Again, not usually romantic, but something in her heart clicked, finally in one piece again. Her hero had come back, she was no longer alone. A tight constriction around her chest – one she is used to living with, so much so that's its sudden absence is almost jarring – breaks abruptly. He has come back to her. Leo Valdez, doing the impossible yet again. She continues to tease him, scanning him for injuries, and that continues right up until he mentions that he was _dead_ and kept an _oath with his final breath_, at which point it seems vitally important that she kisses him. So she does. He tastes like soot, and it's the most wonderful thing she's ever tasted.

_He's back, he's back, he's back_.

She has no hesitations about leaving Ogygia. She will be with Leo, and she has decided that is what matters. Calypso has been hidden away too long, alone too long, and her home is a prison she wants to escape. They will repair Festus. They will find their way back to Camp Half-blood, and see how much time has passed. She hopes it has been only days, that his friends will be alive and well. She wants to meet them, even Percy. After all, she has Leo now. She can bear Percy no ill will. If he had not left, she would never have met Leo. She watches the island disappear into the clouds, and leans forwards against Leo's back, chin propped on his shoulder. He leans back into her, wide smile stretching even further. Her heart settles into a different rhythm, calmer, no longer trying to break its way out of her chest.

_Together, together, together._


	2. Day and night

**Day and night**

By day, everything seems manageable. The memories are still there, dragging at them like lead weights bound to every limb, every thought. But they can be bourne, dragged on into the future. By day, there are things to do. The stain of Tartarus can be…ignored, to an extent, buried under the efforts of moving _forwards_, resolutely not looking back. And when it cannot be ignored, well, there are always people there, to comfort and reassure, and the warmth of the sun on their faces is a reminder that they are free, they got out, they are alive. There was no sun in Tartarus.

At night it is a different matter. They have to sleep, it is unavoidable. On the Argo II, no one commented when Percy and Annabeth slept curled up on deck for the first few nights, until the constant attacks drove them back into a cabin, where they slept with hands clasped or arms around each other. Nightmares still came, but the other was always there, ready to comfort and reassure. So long as they are together, they will survive.

The first few days at Camp Half-blood are hellish. The Cabin rules are stifling, and neither sleeps easily, waking in terror too great for screaming. Malcolm learns to sleep lightly, picking up on his sister's muffled panic, forcing himself to wake up and be there. After a few days, he storms out of the Athena cabin to go find Percy, and almost falls over the son of the sea god. He's sat by the door, curled up on himself, biting his lip so hard that it's bleeding, needing to be close to Annabeth, close enough that if she is in danger he can help, needing to not create more problems for her at the same time. Malcolm hesitates for less than a second before dragging him inside.

From then on, it's a given that Percy will sleep in the Athena cabin, or that Annabeth will stay in the Poseidon cabin with Percy. They curl up on one bed, just holding on to each other. So long as they are together, it is alright. They can push terror back, for a few more hours.

Nico refuses, initially, to be comforted. It is too awkward, the idea of sleeping in the same place as _Percy_ (and Annabeth), even if he's moved on. They take to pausing outside the Hades' cabin when they're sleepless, listening for any cries or sounds of distress. There is an unspoken agreement that whatever terrors they faced, for Nico it must have been worse. He was alone. They talk slightly less quietly as they pass by, hoping that he will hear them and know they are nearby.

But eventually he does let them in, stumbling into the Posiedon cabin too scared and hurt to be embarrassed, collapsing at the foot of their bed just to be near them. To feel the whispering of their dreams in the back of his mind, because if there are others dreaming near him his is not alone, and therefore he is not really in Tartarus, and he can bear the nightmares. He wakes feeling uncommonly warm, and realises he is sandwiched between Percy and Annabeth, a pillow wedged behind his head and a duvet covering the three of them, all huddled around the end of the bed. They are still holding hands behind him, arms uncomfortable against his back, but the contact is also comforting. He is not alone. He is not in Tartarus. He can bear it.

By day, they push on, building a future and trying to keep the past in the past. By night, they cling to each other and try to push through.


	3. Crepuscular

**Crepuscular rays**

**(sun through clouds)**

Will is determined that, _this_ time, he _will_ burn away the brooding cloud that Nico di Angelo seems so prone to getting lost in. There are some things troubling Nico that he can't fix. He cannot bring Bianca back, or even re-write the last few minutes of their time together so Nico didn't let his sister go with anger and hurt. He cannot melt away the memories of Tartarus, though he tries to be there, along with Percy, Annabeth and Nico's other friends (even if he doesn't seem to realise he has any). But he's determined that this time, Nico will not become _convinced_ that everyone hates him

Because that's never been true.

Sure, people were a little uncomfortable at times. The guy had been trapped in the Lotus Hotel for something like _forty years_, and that can be pretty baffling in and of itself. Then there's the fact that he pretty much lived in the _underworld_ for like, two years. On his own. With all the ghosts and gods know what else. It was hard to interact with him, sometimes. Hard to know what to say, and more importantly, what_ not _to say.

And he really didn't make it easy. Will guessed it was understandable given what he'd been through, but Nico had just _expected_ everyone to hate him, expected it so firmly that he filtered every interaction through a lens of "what is the most negative interpretation of this". It had taken Will too long to realise what was going on, and suddenly Nico had upped and left, leaving worried almost-friends behind without even _realizing_ it.

Will was determined that Nico was never going to think he was friendless again.

In truth, the battle is already started, as the boy freely acknowledges at least five people as friends, but he is still prone to thinking they are the exceptions. That everyone else hates him for being the son of Hades. For being _Nico_. It takes time to convince him that people didn't wish he wasn't there when he tried to talk to them, but that they were taken aback and creeped out when he appeared absolutely silently, with no warning of his presence. To make him remember how accepted he had felt on his first (short) visit to Camp Half-blood. _We didn't hate you then, why would we have hated you just because of who your dad was? You do know who Chiron's dad is, right?_ Will drags him into helping at the Infirmary, and every word of thanks from wounded campers as he offers nectar and plasters eats away at Nico's bitterness.

Slowly but surely, one by one, Will and his other friends burn through Nico's clouds.


	4. Sunrise

**Sunrise**

Seven days.

That's all it takes to get back to Camp Half-Blood. Leo counts every sunset and sunrise, and chants the number over and over in his head as the count racks up. Seven days isn't _too_ bad, all things considered. He mutters variants on this every day, and Calypso nods and smiles and doesn't raise the point that time passes differently in Ogygia. He already knows.

It's been seven days since they left the island, but how long did it take them to leave?

Leo refuses to find out, partly because every second he doesn't spend fixing Festus or flying – whichever is applicable – is a second longer that he won't be home, partly because it would require a significant diversion, searching for land and people rather than following their re-calibrated navigation system straight to Camp Half-Blood.

Mostly because if he found out it had been centuries, he would fall apart so thoroughly that not even Hephaestus would be able to repair him.

It took them three days to repair Festus, Leo pulling tool after tool out of his belt, spare nuts and bolts spilling out of rushing hands onto the rocky island that was the first land they could find, Calypso working what magic she could to help. It's a shoddy repair, and Leo spent most of the time working on it murmuring apologies to Festus and promising a complete makeover when they get back.

Calypso had to work to convince him to sleep. She finally manages it when he accidentally repairs one of Festus' wings completely the wrong way around. Tired mechanics make mistakes, and mistakes take time. Time is not something Leo wants to waste.

Even while he eats his hands are working, constructing little automatons out of scraps, which fly busily off in the direction of Camp Half-Blood when he lets them go, tightly scrolled notes sealed inside waterproof centres. Neither of them mention the lack of any response. Perhaps their messages all got lost at sea.

Perhaps there was no-one there to receive them.

He's happiest when they are finally flying again, able to relax back into Calypso's arms and talk. The urgency never leaves him, eyes scanning the horizon for any familiar landmark, any friendly help that would get a message to his friends, anything at all, but when they are flying at least they are on their way.

By the end of their first day in the sky, she thinks she would be able to recognise a fair portion of campers without any introduction. He asked her questions too, and she gave him funny stories from her childhood, eons ago, celebrating internally every time she made him laugh, the tension like a coiled spring relaxing marginally, even if only for a moment.

By the end of the second day, she has started to think of them as _their_ friends, despite never having met any except Percy. She starts to love them by reputation, and wonders what they will make of her.

She prays to each of the gods that once cursed her that she has the chance to find out.

"Seven." Calypso rests her forehead against his back, gently rubbing his shoulders. He swallows audibly and gestures to the horizon, island faintly visible, lit by the emerging light of the rising sun. "There it is. Seven days. It only took seven days." She nods and murmurs it back to him, hoping it is reassuring. It would have been six, except they had a nasty run in with some kind of sea dragon-y…thing that objected to its metallic cousin flying overhead. Leo had ended up in the turbulent water, dragged under and away, and it had taken hours of searching to find him, bobbing on the surface with a homemade buoyancy aid, alternating between building damp flares that spluttered and died, and throwing celestial bronze spare parts through any momentary rainbow spray.

They'd tried already, the first time they'd reached land. Iris – or Fleecy, whoever was taking calls – clearly didn't accept anything other than official currency.

They kept trying, just in case.

Leo was leaning forwards so far that Calypso worried he would slip and fall. Though it would be a very _Leo_ way to make a homecoming, she didn't think his friends would appreciate it, so she hung onto the back of his shirt. He was muttering and mumbling at a frantic rate, and she could only catch a few words here and there.

"Seven days….always seven….be there they have to…ohgodsohgods…." She rests her free hand lightly on his lips to quiet him.

"We're almost there, Leo." _We almost know._

They are almost over the camp when they're spotted, alarm horns sounding and campers tumbling out of cabins, most still in their nightclothes, nearly all clutching weapons.

"What in the name of _Hades_ is _that!?_" Leo tenses still further, shuddering, and Calypso bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. Surely a metal dragon is memorable? It didn't bode well for them if Festus was not immediately recognisable.

"LEO!" Calypso breathes a sigh of relief, grip on Leo's shirt relaxing. He jerks forwards at the sound of his friend's voice, eyes fixing on the figures still distant below, singling out a few amongst the growing crowd of half-asleep campers. "LEO VALDEZ, GET DOWN HERE!"

Calypso recognises the strains of unintentional charmspeak in the voice a moment too late, and Leo obediently slips sideways off of the dragon's back before she can grab hold of him. He's half laughing in relief even as he falls.

"Catch him!" Festus was already twisting and diving, but pulls up short as a figure shoots from the ground to grab the falling camper. Calypso and Festus glide down after Jason and Leo, setting down gently. She doesn't climb down, happy to sit and wait a while, watching Leo disappear under a growing pile of friends. She can see glimpses of his face, occasionally, when someone shifts back to look at him in disbelief, and he's grinning and sobbing and talking at the same time.

They all are, and their tears shine in the sun.


End file.
